Deadly Passions
by Thess
Summary: An innocent pawn, two self righteous sinners and a clever devil who wants them to face their vices. The deadly passions that lead to eternal damnation sometimes aren’t as pleasant as they appear to be. AxI & AAxI.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Hellsing belongs to Kouta Hirano.

Author's Notes: Response for the May challenge in fictionhaven of lj (theme: the seven deadly sins) and dedicated to Angelcide. Set in a possible future after the Manga (maybe AU if Hirano contradicts something). Many thanks to Dreadnot, my editor.

**Deadly Passions**

****

- Prologue

He used to be in a Void. The darkness was everywhere he looked, there were no sounds he was able to hear, no smells to detect, and nothing to feel – his skin grew numb. He had tried to count, attempting to grasp a semblance of passing time as he spent it, but stopped after reaching to two thousand three hundred forty-nine. He had recalled next, the events before his imprisonment.

There were big explosions, gunshot, sirens and blood – a war.

There was a brave woman, an army of damned clergy and a creed – his identity.

There were knights dressed in white, a traitorous leader, vampires, the Devil – his enemies.

There was a duel, pain, a female voice screaming his name and then shadows- his doom.

He was starting to feel now. His body was awaking from the convulsions. The first change was his own hair, it was growing in length becoming as thick as living tentacles. Next, he noted his chest was burning; he howled madly and swept his arms, throwing the caustic object away. Everything became clearer; the world grew cold, as the heat of his body vanished, as the length of his teeth sharpened, as he tasted the blood in his throat.

_Open your eyes, beloved Nemesis. Open before the world will fade for you forever._

He snarled at the mocking voice, jumping to his feet from the pond of blood where he had been laying. He opened his eyes to see the world, his sight had improved considerably. He surveyed the grey stone of the prison where he had been put. It seemed like a cell, one without furniture and a thick mental door. He tried to step back, sensing his feet had stepped on in something sticky, a dark oily substance coming out a familiar red trench coat. There was a pause before he realized to whom that belonged.

_I am not dead, you are. Look at your hands, at your body and features._

"Shut up! Get out! Shut up!" he screamed, running towards the wall, smashing his head over and over again. It did not hurt; the bruise was minimal and healed quickly. He hit himself one last time and collapsed to his knees, unable to stop the laughter that spread inside his mind. In desperation, he buried his face in his hands and noticed they were covered by gauntlets now. Wide eyed, he denied what he saw, the armour assembling on his body and facial hair growing on his jaw.

"No! No! Get out!" he shouted, clawing his face, ripping pieces of his skin along with the beard, crawling along the room, bleeding more on the dusty floors. He stopped when he stumbled over a corpse, it was slim and female and was turning to dust. The blonde head was a few inches away from the body. He grabbed the severed head, examining it carefully. Her eyes were red, wide open in a horrified expression, her mouth was open in a quiet scream and dripped blood – a mixture of his and hers.

Memories shot painfully inside him, intense and broken. Her terrified features. The voice in his head ordering him to stop but he was not able. His digits trembled digging deep into her dead eyes, taking them out and hurling them towards the wall.

"Don't see me!" he had warned and she had done nothing but stand there and stare, paralysed. "Don't see me like this! Stop watching me! No one can see me like this!" The past was gone, the present came to view. Her irises staring blankly at his face.

He started to beat the cadaver restlessly, crushing the skull then jolting the body until it crumbled into nothingness. No one should see him. No one could know what he had become. "No one," he whispered.

The convulsions continued, the oily matter leaked inside his body through the microscopic pores of his skin. He howled in pain, struggling as his cheekbones became sharper, the empty cell echoed his screams. He felt the process stopping; his muscles relaxed and he allowed himself to rest on the ground, over the dust of the one who had cursed him. The clash was far from over, he still felt him inside his mind, his soul, trying to take over.

_You are offering an interesting challenge, Judas Priest, but your body is already halfway mine._

----

On the second floor of the Hellsing Manor, Integral Hellsing awoke from a dreamless slumber. Her forehead was covered with sweat and the droplets ran down her cheek. Placing a hand over her pounding heart, she stood and walked towards the window, opening it to gain more fresh air. She stared at the starless sky, only illuminated by the full moon. Not even the fresh spring breeze could relieve her grim thoughts.

_Had someone just been screaming for help?_


	2. Luxuria

_"Excessive love of others"_  
(Of Lust, Dante in the Divine Comedy).

**Chapter One  
- Luxuria **

Above him, separated by the thick cement layers, he heard footsteps, voices, assorted noises as the personnel of the Mansion organised the search for him, for Seras. He did not bother to move, feeling comfortable staying on the floor, leaned on the furthest wall from her ashes. Inwardly, he licked his lips, listening the wild beating of the human hearts, the image of their blood pounded by the vigorous organs came to his mind.

_Do you feel the hunger already, Judas Priest? Maybe that will force you to move from this state. _

Anderson flinched, attempting to ignore the mocking tone of the devil inside his mind. He grunted and shielded his ears with his hands, trying to block the sounds without avail. The Paladin thought of blood as well, coming out from her throat as his bayonet severed her neck. It was as red as her eyes, the witnesses of his shame.

She had paid blood for blood as was fair. She had taken from him without his permission, cutting deep into his skin. He shuddered, remembering the pleasure of her fangs, piercing his treacherous flesh; he had been so weak to give in to the brief carnal bliss.

_You say that to yourself, priest, but why so eager to convince yourself what you committed was fair?_

Anderson had no answer, he just curled further against the wall, struggling against the starting spasm. Alexander Anderson would not surrender his body so easily. "I would not go without a fight!" he exclaimed, shivering as the armour faded into his tattered priestly clothes.

_Get up._

"Go to hell and leave me with my misery!" Anderson growled as response at Dracula's demanding tone.

_Don't you hear it, Judas Priest? Footsteps. Integral is coming. We have to clean the mess you made unless, of course, you want her to see you like this as well. _

This time, he did not protest and followed the vampire's orders, vanishing the evidence and themselves into the shadows.

-----

Integral Hellsing had organised a search party after realising Alucard, Seras and Anderson were missing that morning. Dracula sometimes vanished to stroll in the forest or randomly feed without her permission, so she was not concerned about him. Anderson mostly told her if he left the Manor grounds, but there was the possibility he felt an urge to leave for whatever reason. Much like the Count, he was not stable. But Seras would never depart without warning.

She descended to the basement, seeking any indication that Seras had come down the night before. Several maids had claimed the Police Girl wandered there despite having her quarters relocated to the late Pip Bernadette's chambers after the war. Seras had been excited to not sleep underground anymore, but Integral assumed she could have grown nostalgic or that Alucard summoned her for a reason.

Dracula had suspiciously started to teach Seras more about vampirism now that he was released from service, perhaps he trained her in something she was not prepared for and she was injured in the endless maze of the subterranean tunnels. The screams that awoke her last night lingered close to her memory. _But no else heard them_, she told herself, recalling the interrogations to her personnel. If her increasing paranoia could make her hear and see things that were not real, that was really bad news, but somehow she wished that was the case, and prayed that Seras Victoria was safe.

"Walker in Alucard's quarters," Integral ordered to one of the men that followed her, "Fisher, Seras' old room. I am going further towards the closed area," she finished and set her way to the dungeons, the research laboratory, the torture chamber and found nothing. The last stop was one she had not entered in over a decade – Alucard's cell. The place of their fateful meeting. Integral paused, reaching for her shoulder, the spot where her uncle had shot her started to ache suddenly. No matter how much time passed, some wounds were not physical and did not heal properly.

Taking a deep breath, she turned the doorknob. Her mind was nearly transported to the past for the briefest of instant – behind her she swore she heard Richard screaming at his men to give her chase. Half smiling for her nostalgia, she pulled the small flashlight out of her coat and turned it on. The cell was deprived of light, natural and artificial alike, thus she needed that to illuminate her path. Integral surveyed the space, nothing seemed to have changed since the last time she saw it. There were cracks on the wall, falling paint and the decomposing smell of death that never had fazed her. Even the stains of her dried blood were left on the ground, the few droplets Alucard had not the chance to drink.

Integral stared at the spot where Alucard used to be held with a growing and oppressive sensation of being watched, swearing that phantom fingertips caressed her cheek, lulling her senses to relaxing. "Count?" she spoke aloud but there was no answer but her own echo on the empty room.

With all the commotion, she had forgotten it was the twenty-fourth of December and missed the Christmas Mass on Westminster.

-----

_You want her, don't you?_

The sly voice rang deep inside his psyche, each time he did that, it was more difficult to fight him off.

_You want her, priest. I see your thoughts as clear as mine. You want to touch her, to hold her, to…_

"No!" Anderson yelled, squeezing his eyes shut against the sight of Integral so close to him in the darkness. He respected her and followed her unto death. _That is all._

_Is it? Then why are your fingers caressing her face? Do you want to be discovered?_ The devil chuckled loudly. Anderson froze, forcing his hands to stay near his body.

"It is _you_ who want her, that is why I feel this. You are tainting my mind with your desires!" Anderson exclaimed, blessing his newfound dark powers that shielded his voice from her ears.

Dracula laughed so hard, his own throat could not help but let got a laugh as well. Anderson punched his jaw, breaking it; he had to stop laughing, to stop listening to his voice in his mouth.

_You called out her name when my fledgling was biting you, Anderson. Is your memory so fragmented that you don't recall what happened last night? Allow me to refresh it._

Anderson knelt as images assaulted his mind. He saw himself in deep pleasure; his expression was twisted between resolution to fight the bliss and giving in. There was blood and shadows everywhere and on the edge of the ecstasy, he uttered Integral's name. He could not continue to watch this, he shut his brain from his, trying to beat his skull on the floor, seeking release. This was worse than hell, to be trapped with Alucard struggling to dominate his body.

_Oh yes, Judas Priest, just go to hell and leave me your magnificent body._

Anderson growled, he was tricking him, tormenting his mind and soul to expel him and win. He would not allow the beast to triumph. "Sir Hellsing…" he trailed off, staring the floor, tempted to reach for her again as she was busy inspecting their cell. But he could not show himself like this, not to her.

_Why not? You want her. I want her. Let's put aside our difference and achieve what we both crave. _

"Your tongue won't deceive me," Anderson answered, fighting the new assault of images the vampire was displaying. Not of the past but from a possible future. He saw Integral bare and straddling his waist, her hands running over his face, his chest, nipping his jaw as she brought him deeper inside her. Her mouth was on his neck, suckling the pulse point and biting hard, piercing the flesh as Seras had done. He moaned inwardly at the image and the phantom sensations that overwhelmed his system, but he knew the vampire was trying to tempt him and despised him for that. "Nor will your false promises!"

_Judas can't you see?_ Alucard pointed out, his tone was condescending. _You are hiding your sins from me. Covering them won't help you to prosper, isn't that what Proverbs say?_

Anderson straightened his position, tearing his eyes from Integral and staring to the wall instead. "You are neither my Lord nor my confessor, but a demon to use the Holy Scripture against me!"

_You have no need of either one, Anderson. You are damned now._

"I had been damned before I met you, Alucard, and I needed both then," Anderson spat, almost cackling. The vampire gave himself too much credit; he had a place in hell since he joined Iscariot.

_Then you have only completed the sinful cycle of damnation, don't you agree?_ Anderson was quiet. _You have been punished for your sins, Judas Priest. Was that lust you felt? A lust that drove you away from the Church for thinking of a woman? _

"I-"

_A sin you could live on now yet you refuse._

"Because we both are sinful creatures, it doesn't mean _she_ is deserving of this fate," Anderson argued, putting his thoughts in order. "I won't damn someone who is innocent before their final judgment."

_But you did…last night._

"Shut up! Shut up!" Anderson growled, tempted to shove a bayonet through his brain if he wasn't certain it would be no use, just weaken him against Dracula. He did not do anything wrong! Killing a vampire was what he did.

_What if Integral proves herself as sinful as we are?_ Alucard asked, his tone was smooth, the former priest hated when he attempted to be reasonable, for he had no choice but listen. _Starting with lust. Shall we?_

Anderson felt his body standing by itself. He tried to stop himself and was not able to. The vampire was in control now and approaching her. Integral had turned her back and was kneeling to examine the ground.

_Stop!_ Anderson cried out in frustration with his mind since he could not move his vocal cords any longer. He stared in horror as his hands and size changed, shrinking and his right hand touched her shoulder.

"Sir Hellsing," he heard himself speaking in a voice that did not belong to either him or Alucard. Integral gave a slight startled recoil and rose.

"I didn't hear you, Williams. I must have been too concentrated," Integral confessed, sweeping the dust off her trousers. "Any progress?"

"No, Sir," he shook his head. Anderson was enraged. Had Alucard intended to tempt her with the appearance of a normal mortal man. "Today is Christmas Eve," he reminded her. "You should go to the Mass, Sir. We can continue the search."

_Christmas_, Anderson realised with all the shock from yesterday, it that escaped his mind completely.

Integral stared at him seriously, "I have three missing men. There's nothing more important for me than knowing their location, Williams. Continue the quest and don't interrupt me further unless you have news about them."

"Sorry Sir. Will do," he saluted and strode out the cell, his lips curled up into a twisted smile. "So you see now Judas Priest?" he stated, his tone became lower, more sinister. Shadows covered their body, taking it away from the mortal world.

_What? That she's worried about our welfare?_ Anderson retorted as he struggled to regain further control of his body. _She did nothing wrong._

"Didn't she? You forgot the date, yet allow yourself those enticing thoughts regarding Integral. And she had forsaken the celebration of your saviour's birth to seek three damned creatures… Isn't lust considered excessive love of others at the expense of the worship of your God?"


	3. Gula

_"Excessive love of pleasure"_  
(Of Gluttony, Dante in the Divine Comedy)

**Chapter Two  
- Gula**

Anderson recalled more now. Bits of the fragmented memories wove together inside his broken mind. There had been pleasure, pain and so much blood. Along with the blood there was hunger.

The intensity of his thirst had struck his weakened system, he had pushed the Draculina aside to lunge at the vampire looming over them. He had opened his arms, welcoming, almost giddy when he had leaped and pushed the devil to the ground. Dracula had laughed, baring his neck to satisfy his hunger. There was pleasure again and much more blood, Anderson could not stop drinking, not even when his thirst was quenched. He craved more. So he drank and drank until there were only a few drops left in the vampire's body.

Now Alexander Anderson licked his lips inwardly, recalling the flavour of the brief victory over the beast, the instant he had gained the upper hand – the sensation of power when Alucard had writhed beneath his weight. His grin became a frown as the images of himself lapping at the blood on the floor like a dog came next. He had wanted more. The pleasure so overwhelmed him that he had so low in his dignity. Then pain appeared once more and the world turned black.

_You remember, don't you, Judas Priest?_

"What, monster? How you did squirm beneath me?" Anderson spat in a tone caught between gloating and bitterness. He curled against himself on the cell floor. Days were grey, tasteless like the cement and brick of the dungeon. He preferred to let himself waste than release himself – themselves – on the world, on her.

_You better forget any dominant kink if you want to lay a hand on Integral. She doesn't appreciate dominance in any but herself_, Dracula informed him to his annoyance. When would he stop remind him of his weakness towards the knight? It was getting old.

"Make your point demon," Anderson growled as he felt his muscles stirring. The infernal creature was controlling his reflexes again. He stood before he could struggle to detain Dracula. "Or let me rest."

_There's no rest for the wicked. Would you like to taste the pleasure? The blood?_ His tone was almost seductive, not reasonable, but appealing to his basic instincts. _Wallowing in your gluttony and you forgot about your God and your principles._

Anderson squeezed his eyes shut. He saw himself, how he looked from Alucard's perspective licking the pond of blood like a starved animal, as the hungry demon he became. He was right, he forsook the Lord for a second of pleasure and now he was paying in this shell, this useless hell forever.

"Where are we going?" Anderson asked, his features twisted in horror as his body went through the wall. He tried to shake off his self-pity, he had to fight Dracula, to save what was left of himself.

_To see Integral_, Dracula must have sensed his increase in the struggle against his control, for he added, _Relax, Paladin. We aren't going to take her yet. You need to see, after all, how she wallows in her personal guilty pleasures. _

Anderson said nothing as their body became invisible, concealed to mortal and immortal eyes and ascended, heading towards where their former leader was.

----

Integral Hellsing frowned as she snagged the last remaining cigar out of the box. They were hard to obtain after the war, considering few dared to even bring food supplies to any zone near to London, let alone feed her little vice. She put the cigarillo between her lips and lit it, inhaling the pleasing flavour of the stick. That was the sixth she smoked that afternoon; her habit was becoming more and more addictive since her star agents had vanished. Integral had lost control and that made her feel uncomfortable, she had lost her people and thus she _needed_ something to comfort her – smoking was filling that void.

_I can quit when I want to_, Integral thought, exhaling the smoke, enjoying the caress of that around her face, swirling until it vanished. _I just don't want to leave it now._ She shivered inwardly as if a gust of cold wind had just entered her room. She glanced at the window, but it was shut.

"Count?" she asked aloud, allowing herself to hope for a moment. But it was unlike how Dracula's presence felt, alien. There was no reply. Her eyes scanned the empty office. No dancing shadows, no misplaced red eyes, nothing to indicate supernatural presence but her own subconscious. _He's gone, perhaps taking Seras to Romania_, she mused when suddenly a firm knock on the door interrupted her.

"Sir Hellsing?" a soldier, her new Captain asked, "We are ready and waiting. Are you coming with us on the mission?"

Integral rose and opened her drawer extracting two revolvers filled with silver bullets. "I am Captain," she replied, chewing the cigar. "Give me a second." So there was need again to take care of new trash. It was good to have activity. Hopefully the mission would not be so dangerous as to get more of her people killed, nor so easy as to bore her out her mind. In her hurry to arm and get ready, she forgot the cross pin sitting on the desk.

----

His hand traced the wood as he swept the cross into his hand, staring down at it. It was ill-tended, the gold was dimmed instead of glittering like previous encounters in their past.

_So focused on her pleasure, she no longer pays attention to your deity._

Anderson snorted, squeezing the pin in his hand, mindful of not bending the cross. "Being occupied in duty which is hardly the same as pleasure, devil," he replied.

_Is that so?_ Dracula mentally chuckled. How little you know about her. _Perhaps once Integral saw her duty as an obligation, the unpleasant side of it. But currently, her perspective is different. She thrills in destruction… _

"I don't believe you," Anderson stated stubbornly and he planned to remain standing, not moving a muscle to follow Sir Hellsing.

_Let me show you then. _

He did not need to move, shadows wrapped his body and made him disappear, vanishing to track Integral's position to watch and wait always in hunger.

----

She felt free as she ran, dodging the obstacles, wind against her face and blowing her hair in a feral manner. She sensed the sweat on her skin, her heart pounding faster and faster in anticipation of the approaching footsteps of the moaning ghouls.

_Only a little closer_, Integral thought, fingering her modified hunting rifle anxiously. Her eyes glimmered as the adrenaline ran high inside her system, making her forget that once she used to rely on vampires and super humans. Hunting herself, nearly by her own was such a guilty pleasure, a surprising positive consequence of their disappearance.

Her men had captured the vampire and held him prisoner after an easy struggle. He was not one of Millennium's creations thus it would only take her destroying him to end the ghouls suffering. In the past, she would have acted as quickly and cleanly as possible, wanting to bring the former citizens peace. But now? She no longer thought them as doomed souls but as animals, slow, dumb but dangerous creatures. If she did not, the guilt and remorse for not saving all those people during the war would have consumed her.

Integral licked her lips and glanced to her left, her men waved at her from a distance with the silver chained and muzzled Midian. "Enjoy the show," she told the vampire with a cruel tone. "You took people from me. I take everything from you. It's fair trade," she stated and then loaded her rifle. Her smirk widened as she pulled up the trigger, blowing the first ghoul's head off, the dark blood was everywhere, staining their grey skin. It filled her with an immense satisfaction.

Her features hardened she had to duck a stick flying in her direction. Some were carrying rusty weapons, stones, bats. The culprit had fed on common townspeople but they could be dangerous nonetheless. She took a few steps back when they advanced and dropped the rifle, pulling her revolvers from her holsters. She opened fire once again in a merciless assault against their limbs. The bullets pierced their hands and wrists, made them useless to grab or hold anything, some even targeted their knees to affect their mobility.

Their moans of pain were lovely to Integral's ears. They were the enemy and they should suffer so much for her to enjoy the hunt.

_They are coming_, Integral waited for their recovery and the predictable 'snag with teeth' suicide attack, their last stand of sorts. She holstered her revolvers and brandished her sword expertly to chop their heads off when they approached. The ghouls had been slowed down by her previous attack, their poor kamikaze lunging ended in sliced craniums, severed necks and stabbed hearts, different ways of dying to become dust in the wind across the English field.

Integral sharply inhaled the stench of death surrounding her, the dust on her glasses and the blood on her clothes and found the fragrance superior to any perfume. She was slightly disappointed that it was over so quickly. Picking up her revolvers and her rifle, she headed in her men's direction, and focused her hungry gaze on her prisoner, her trophy. The vampire was both the main dish and the desert. She sheathed her sabre, she intended to toy with him before shedding his blood, before spreading his remains to the wind.

"Leave us," Integral ordered her men. The soldiers saluted, not questioning her orders, probably guessing by the expression on her face, which was twisted in a perverse smirk, that it was better not to contradict her. "Well, it seems humans are not as low on the food chain as you thought," she mocked to the snarling Midian and took a step forward. She stumbled upon something hard in the soil, metallic – it could not be a rock.

She removed her right foot to glanced down; it was her gold cross pin now stained with the blood and muck of her boot. _How did I lose this here?_ She bent to pick it up, and in the process felt as if phantom arms wrapped around her stomach, forcing her to catch her breath. _This mission is straining me more than I anticipated_, she thought.

"You are wrong!" the vampire taunted before breaking into an insane cackle. "You humans are lower in the food chain!"

Integral glared in his direction, displeased to hear him burst into incoherent giggles. She replaced the clip of the weapon and fired at his mouth. Blood sprayed over her and silence reigned under the British sky.

_That will teach the creature his rightful place on the food chain_, she mused triumphant, wiping off the blood from her cheeks, admiring the texture of the liquid before it was gone. "We'll withdraw, let MI-5 do the cleaning," she commanded, walking towards her men and pocketing the cross pin in her coat.

There was nothing else to do after the battle, her blood appetite had nearly been quenched for the day and all she needed now was to purchase another new box of cigars to be complete. Even if she could give up both vices when she wanted to. _Not yet_, she assured herself, _Not yet._


	4. Avaritia

_"Excessive love of money and power"_  
(Of Greed, Dante in the Divine Comedy).

**Chapter Three  
- Avaritia**

"Any news of your creatures' status, Sir Hellsing?" Sir Islands asked, glancing at her. He was not the only one who had been watching her intensely; everyone was attentive to what she intended to do now without her supernatural servants.

_But I still have their respect_, she comforted herself and put down her cup of tea and the smell of the remains of her last cigar on the ashtray locate to her left. "Not yet, Sir Islands. I plan to send several spies to Romania without alerting the Vatican," she assured him. Her eyes fell on the empty chair on Islands' left, Sir Penwood's former place. She felt a pang, how she missed the old man, she would need his favours in a moment as delicate as this.

"The Vatican's power is fading," a male voice interrupted from behind her. She turned around to see a young man no older than thirty with chestnut hair and grey eyes. He was dressed in a black suit of the same fashion as hers and had a small goatee on his chin. "I wouldn't worry about them, Miss Hellsing and focus in fulfilling our expectations instead," he added, shooting her an arrogant look. There was a murmur among the knights, Integral heard them whispering to themselves. "My apologies for the delay, Sir Islands," he bowed.

"Who is this?" Integral demanded, very nearly rising. "Why do we allow his insolent presence among us?"

"This is Shelby Penwood's replacement," Islands explained and shook his head, sighing deeply. "Take your place, Sir William Bannerworth," he gestured to Penwood's chair. "Don't keep us waiting again."

_Bannerworth?_ Integral observed the man quietly as he went to sit down. "Pardon me Sir Bannerworth, but I met the Bannerworths when I was young and I don't recall any William among them."

"Because, Miss Hellsing, I lived in Canada for my childhood," William explained, lips curled in a smirk she wished to wipe away. "I have been overseas as one of the members of MI-6 taking care the Empire's foreign political investigations when I was called."

"And none of your family ever spoke about you to me?" Integral inquired, unconvinced. She was dead set to unmask this insolent charlatan.

"Perhaps they did and you don't remember," Sir Bannerworth pointed out, his smirk widened. "A proof you don't know as much as you fancy, Sir Hellsing. Not even your aces' locations."

The murmur among the knights increased, Integral searched their faces, and they were stunned by the newcomer's defiance. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to remain quiet, _Islands will put him in his place._ But he did not.

"Sir Integral," Islands chided, "Are you questioning Her Majesty's and my choice for General Penwood's replacement? Shelby had no children or living family to inherit the title."

"No, Sir Islands," Integral answered, her tone was strained and her features hardened.

"Then, ask forgiveness for your rudeness to good William."

Integral had difficulties to not stare agape at Islands and glared at Bannerworth, who in return gave her a haughty look. The room had grown quiet, observing the exchange in silence. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut. She would not ask forgiveness to that young noble, not when he had mocked her first.

"With your permission, Sir Islands. I need fresh air," Integral excused herself and rose suddenly, storming out the meeting room. She did not wait for Islands' response. She would not stay and be humiliated by a rookie.

"On the way, Sir Hellsing," William spoke aloud, making her pause in her path. "Can you bring more tea when you return? It seems to have run out, and I wish to fill my cup."

She had to restrain herself from slamming the door when she exited.

----

_You made her mad at us!_ Anderson accused, watching Integral stride out the room rather irritated. _I thought you said we could aid her as a fellow knight._ That was the only reason he acceded to this ridiculous plan to pose as 'William Bannerworth.'

_We are helping her_, Dracula assured him with a devilish mental chuckle. His words did not soothe his concern. _She must realize what condition Hellsing is in without us or the Police Girl in its ranks. Our act is what some of these foppish old men think deep inside._

_I want to talk, demon. _

_You aren't a very good politician, Judas Priest. What are you going to do? Stab them with your bayonets mid-discussion? _

_Better than impaling them!_ Anderson shouted. He denied being a puppet. His anger made 'William' slam the table with both hands.

"Sir Bannerworth?" Islands asked, glancing at him strangely. "Is there something you want to share with us?"

_See what you did?_ Dracula accused and Anderson withdrew, sulking in a corner of his mind, allowing the vampire to take the lead, for now. William pulled a handkerchief to wipe the fabricated sweat on his forehead. "No, Sir Islands, I am sorry for that."

"I suggest that you not antagonize Integral Hellsing," the head of the Twelve Conventions warned. "It's in our best interest to not make enemies among ourselves."

William smiled handsomely, he sensed Integral's return, her heartbeat steadying. She was near, her faint footsteps were right outside the door. She was waiting, eavesdropping. "With all due respect, Sir Islands, I believe Miss Hellsing's role with this Table has ended. Without her powerful servants, her organisation means nothing." William heard a slam and feigned shock to see Integral entering. Anderson was stunned himself. What on earth was the vampire doing?

"Sir Hellsing," Islands cleared his throat. "We were just speaking about you."

----

Integral could not believe this. Were they speaking behind her back? Even Islands? Were they scheming in secret to strip her of her position? _No, I have power still_, she thought. _A half destroyed Mansion, a few soldiers and medals of war._ She shut her eyes tightly, she had nothing to compete now that her servants were gone but she tried to replace them in the battlefield the best she was able to.

"I heard everything," Integral confessed, scanning their faces. Most were blank and the Bannerworth fellow's was one of pure smugness. "Whatever _Mister_ Bannerworth has to say about me, I rather be here to listen."

"You forgot the tea, Miss Hellsing," he pointed out, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. Her temper once again was spiking.

"And you forgot to say please," Integral retorted, locking her gaze with his. "And to bring to this table more than immature taunts to be of use. Such as experience and feats."

"I bring the future, Miss Hellsing," William told her, spreading his arms wide. It was strange that no one spoke, no one complained about his outburst. Were the other knights on his side? "The future of the Hellsing Organisation is grim. The Crown is too busy rebuilding London to aid you financially."

Integral's pupils dilated, she forced her head to stay high, no matter how his words rang true and stung her. She knew her Organisation was in near bankruptcy, silver was expensive, the life insurance for her soldiers as well. Administrating the trip to Romania would probably leave her in financial ruin. "And what do you have then?"

"Money and international contacts," Bannerworth said, rather showing off to her face. "I could supply an army, my family knows how to exterminate vampires. We were immortalized in literature as well."

"And your own vampire servant? Do you own Varney by any chance?" Integral asked, crossing her arms. She saw his points but this cowardly fop had not proved himself on the battlefield or with real experience outside his bravado.

"No, but at least I didn't lose mine," William said in a condescending tone. "Those vampires are so dangerous and now are free… You'll need help to recover your precious monsters." He raised a hand towards her. "You'll need my funds."

"And why would you let me borrow a penny of your so-called fortune?" Integral approached her seat, the audience of knights lost importance compared to William. She did want more money for supplies and she thought of her position, she had to maintain it. She would not be replaced; she refused to lose all the power she had fought to accumulate. That was one of the few things she still possessed intact.

"Because, my dear lady, _spouses_ share their riches, don't they?"

Integral gawked at the repulsive man. He had just proposed? She would not be tied to this disgusting individual. _But my position_, she mused, pondering what other exits she had. _I would share my wealth but not my power with him in any case._

"What if my men are able to locate my servants?" she inquired, waiting for his answer. He had a troubled expression, displaying in his facial expressions some kind of brief inner struggle.

"Then our engagement would be over," William assured her. "What is your answer?"

"I shall keep my maiden name," Integral stated, taking a seat to the incredulous looks of the Round Table. He had her answer and inclined his head. For a second, she saw some sorrowful glint reflected in his green eyes. Green? She paused and looked again, they were that calculating grey. Shaking her head, she addressed the man sitting across her. "Sir Islands, we should renew our discussion from before the interruption," she suggested.

Islands took the suggestion and the debate about which bridge should be rebuilt first renewed. She was not interested in it. Integral stared at the man she would most likely marry and watched how he also analysed her. She made a mental memo to find information about the Bannerworths and this William in particular. Pity Walter had to be killed in battle; he would be handy in moments like this.

----

"What did you do!" Anderson shouted at the top of his lungs once he – they – were safe in the basement. His body cracked, shifting to a scarecrow-like figure with long blond hair and red eyes. His arms were unnaturally long, spider-like. He collapsed on his knees, gnashing his sharp fangs for control.

_Helping her, of course_, Dracula pointed out simply. _She wanted money and to retain her power. You have listened to her words and peered at her thoughts. Greed, avarice, rotten inside her soul._

"Because of her duty!"

_Not anymore, her duty could be in our hands. She knew but refused to forsake her place_, Dracula reasoned, Alexander cringed at the truth in his malign speech. Integral Hellsing despised William Bannerworth and only accepted wedding him out of convenience. _Power is alluring and difficult to forsake, Judas Priest, isn't it? Why else do you struggle against me? Knowing I could set things right with your body. Why else do you want to expel me from this body but to steal my power?_

"That's not true!" Anderson snapped. He summoned a bayonet, ready to strike his ears in a vain attempt to be deaf, forgetting the voice was echoing inside his thoughts. The silver burned his hand and he was forced to drop it. "I am fighting you because you are a monster!" he hissed in a lower tone.

_Oh really? And what are you, Judas? But a monster as well?_ His speech was accompanied by memories of the night he sealed his fate to live in this hell with Dracula. Anderson saw himself through Alucard's eyes, how after wallowing in the pleasure of blood drinking, a maniacal expression shadowed his features. The same expression that Enrico Maxwell had borne while he murdered civilians in his Crusade. A power-hungry all consuming thrill. He felt it now, to employ his blood, his might to his best interests. _So you see now, Judas Priest. How deep your sins run?_


	5. Acedia

_"Failure to love God with all one's heart, all one's mind, and all one's soul"_  
(Of Sloth, Dante in the Divine Comedy).

**Chapter Four  
- Acedia**

There had been nothing to hunt, Anderson recalled, nothing to do for over a week before the night that changed his life. He had been lingering in his room, reading and praying for the first two days before he lost interest, growing sluggish. He had forgotten to finish his rosary prayers the night he fell asleep and was taken to that cell. He felt his years despite the experiments, he felt the killings behind him and the people he had buried, and Alexander Anderson hesitated, weary for a second, and was too late.

Now he was sleeping inside his body, he was not greedy; he sought not to be as powerful as Alucard had been. He was wrong and he wanted to show it but soon it did not matter. He was tired, nothing mattered. He would rather stay asleep for a while, resting in the cold dungeon below the Hellsing Mansion.

_Awake, Judas Priest_, Dracula's voice was demanding, granting him control over his own body once again. Anderson did not take it immediately, the compliance he had fallen into was certainly pleasant, nothing to worry about, nothing to suffer about. But he remembered who the vampire was and who he was; he would not be defeated so easily. Integral Hellsing's soul and many others depended on his victory.

"Where?" Anderson asked aloud, glancing at the rustic town near the sea. It barely had electric lights. So small. _Where did you bring me?_ He wondered but Dracula did not answer. Anderson sniffed the air, the blood aroma was overwhelming – rotten blood. He looked at the ground, the grass as stained red and there were ashes along with ripped limbs – Midians. He put a hand on his lips and tasted the blood inside his mouth, coming down his throat. He spat it out, disgusted with himself.

_What's the matter, Anderson? Can't you fulfil the role God has given to you correctly? _

Anderson surveyed the battlefield one last time, ignoring the monster's hurtful words and his infernal laugh. He heard a thunderous noise in the sky, looking up he saw helicopters were coming his way. His eyes recognised the Hellsing small bat insignia and the heraldry on the metal surface. Quickly, he vanished from sight, returning to the Mansion before he was spotted.

----

Integral was sitting on the couch, staring at the flames crackling in the fireplace. Her eyelids were half closed from the comfort of the heat inside in contrast with the frosty outdoors. She heard a timid knock on the door of her living room.

"Come in," she ordered lazily. By the sound of the boots on her marble floor, it did not take her much to guess it was a soldier.

"Sir, I came to deliver the report on the last mission in Wales, it seems that…"

"The enemy was found dead once again for unknown causes," Integral finished for him with a stretch on her arms. "Like the last four times. At this rate we will be considered obsolete, if we aren't already," she stated bitterly. "What about the investigation regarding William Bannerworth? How is progressing?"

"He's clean so far, Sir."

Integral disliked that response, "Print what you have and deliver it to my desk."

"Now, Sir?"

"Tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, it doesn't matter when. Apparently, I have a lot of spare time in my hands," Integral added, resettling herself to glance at her soldier. "Is there anything else you require, Lieutenant?"

"I was wondering if you have read the balance for this month?" the man cleared his throat, half taking a step back from his place. "We have all the full list of the items we need to replace to supply headquarters with the technology we had prior to the war."

Integral sighed deeply, lounging further on the couch. She stopped looking at her Lieutenant and focused on the untouched Christmas tree behind him, the wood was starting to rot and the green leaves were turning brown, the lights were turned off but she had ordered to her maids to leave it be. Beneath the pine lay the presents she had purchased for Anderson, Alucard and Seras Victoria. They were wrapped in sober blue paper with a velvet ribbon over them, and there was also a symbolic empty box next to Walter's photograph. Her heart gave a pang; she had never had the chance to mourn them until now.

"Sir?" the Lieutenant insisted to catch her attention. She glanced at him with disinterest.

"We cannot afford to buy those items, Lieutenant," Integral replied, musing over her funds and her priorities. "I have already invested money for the research in Romania. So far, your men's achievements are less than flattering. We should instead recover our aces before Her Majesty deems us unworthy."

Even if her words were reasonable, she simply did not care about her supplies. She stopped going along on missions after the second time her foes were found destroyed, it was a waste of her energies. Currently, the apathy burned deeply at the core of her former determination.

"Not even more silver bullets?" his voice rose, as if he was outraged.

"We still have plenty with all those failed missions," Integral waved her hand dismissively. "Unless you have anything else to add, you may go, Lieutenant." She turned to stare at the fire again. Free time allowed her to feel the weight of her losses, to brood about them.

"Oh, one more thing, Sir. Sir Bannerworth called; he wanted to know if you'll be joining the knights tomorrow at the Mass. He displayed an open concern about the state of your soul."

Integral flinched inwardly, that damned fop was going to pester about her religion as well as her money? "Tell him I am busy," she said. A necessary lie. "And that I am not feeling Christian enough to share his enjoyment."

"As you will, Sir Hellsing," the Lieutenant said before leaving. If he saluted or not, she frankly did not care. Her moments inside the Mansion became tasteless, grey and bland. If she would have bothered to turn, Integral would have realized that the door slammed on its own and no one came out from it, that her soldier had been engulfed in the shadows of a being that was both plotting her downfall and her salvation.


	6. Ira

_"Love of justice perverted to revenge and spite"_  
(Of Wrath, Dante in the Divine Comedy)

**Chapter Five  
- Ira**

It was cold enough to freeze her bones, the icy weather was an unexpected trouble when Integral's plane descended in the international airport of Bucharest. She brought with her four of her men, three mercenaries, and one of the few surviving soldiers who had not been in the headquarters when the Valentine Brothers attacked. Richards, which was his surname, was a strongly built, middle-aged blond soldier who walked always at her right.

With Her Majesty's signed permission, she was able to smuggle her weapons without passing through customs. A relief, Integral did not need further problems to add to her growing list.

"I have been in Romania before," one of the mercenaries, Buttes, told her as they scanned to find the person who would pick them up in a taxi. She had preferred not to hire a limousine; it was too expensive and would attract attention. The driver apparently was a friend of Buttes, a mercenary who had settled down to raise a family and forsaken the profession. "There he is! Alexandru!"

Integral turned to inspect their private chauffer. His aspect, albeit clean, was untidy. His hair was messy and his shirt was half out his black trousers. He was enthusiastically waving a sign with the "Wingates" surname on it in a fine handwriting. As a precaution, Integral almost never divulged her last name, while Alucard had prevented the press capturing an image of her, she was certain they knew her full name. The driver walked towards Buttes, hugged him briefly, and patted his back in greeting.

"So this is your new boss?" Alexandru asked, looking at her. He was speaking in English. "It's a pleasure Miss Wingates," he tipped his brown hat courteously.

"Charmed, Mr. Buttes spoke highly of you. I hope you can live up my expectations."

"I see what I could do," he smiled. "Where are we going, lady? Perhaps to taste some traditional dish? It's nearly night and the trip may make you hungry. Or search a good hotel to register."

"We already dined on the plane and we don't plan to stay long in Bucharest," Integral answered, shaking her head. "Cişmigiu Gardens. Wait for us."

No further questions asked – as with any former mercenary, he knew the rules of the game – Alexandru led them to his vehicle, a yellow Dacia, and accommodated the suitcases in the boot. Integral slid into the passenger seat, while her men had to squeeze into the narrow back.

"Here we are," Alexandru stopped the car in front of the Gheorghe Lazar high school. "At this time of the day, only beggars and thugs frequent the park. And several students who have nothing better to do but risk their skins by trying to skate on the lake."

_Clearly not only them_, Integral thought, opening the door. "Your advice will be taken in consideration," she said, gesturing to her men to descend and follow her. They all carried revolvers beneath their coats and clips to change to silver bullets. She hoped the vampire population would have not increased in the last century.

"Boss, are you sure of this?" Buttes asked, rubbing his hands as they crossed the street towards the nude trees.

"Positive," Integral stated firmly. "My grandfather's annotations describe this… place as a pretty popular spot for the vampires who chose to live in the city." She omitted the part that stated that the Midians of this zone were grateful that Abraham van Helsing had taken Dracula away and slain the Brides. She was counting on their free collaboration.

"Trust Sir Hellsing," Richards insisted, scowling to his comrade's direction.

Integral placed her hands in her the coat pockets, trying to warm them up from the terrible cold. Minutes passed, several thugs were threatened on their way to the centre of the gardens, where there were several white statues of men displayed. Strangely, not one wielded a weapon and they did not look like warriors. She stopped, and immediately the rest did the same, and surveyed the thugs roaming and the beggars trying to shelter themselves from the winter by curling next to each other under statues. Her tracking stopped on a lone, pale beggar under the most imposing sculpture of the park: a man wrapped in Roman attire holding something akin to a scroll. Beside him, the bodies of two of the drunkards lay, both holding broken bottles and with wounds on their foreheads, their blood stained the white snow.

"Him," Integral gestured, approaching her target. The men were seemingly alive, though their breathing was sparse, it was still there. The beggar's chest, on the other hand, did not move; with his eyes closed, he seemed dead from the cold. His features belonged to a plump man, unlike the slim homeless people, with brown hair and an abundant beard over his chin. "Translate what I say, Buttes," she ordered.

"He seems dead, boss," Buttes pointed out, his foot prodding the thugs who grunted at his action.

"He is dead," Integral said, noticing a dried blood stain on his white lips. Feeding off of them without needing to bite, she assumed, judging by the brawl that took over a few steps from him. It was the perfect disguise. "But he can still speak to a Hellsing."

Suddenly, the beggar opened his eyes, as she guessed they were red. "Van Helsing?" he asked, "Are you one of the hunters?" he asked, in rather fluent English.

Integral merely nodded.

"First the rumours of Dracula's return," the beggar said with a bitter tone, "Now the foreign hunters. I wonder if Bathory is next."

_Dracula's return?_ Integral thought, both enraged and glad to be right on her dear Count's whereabouts. "We haven't come here to hunt you, not if you cooperate," Integral stated, sensing the agitation of her soldiers. They were still very uneasy around an undead that was not Seras. "You'll soon return to rest under this statue if we go now."

"I knew him you know. He was a great man," the beggar pointed out in a nostalgic tone.

"Dracula? My ancestor?" Integral asked, lifting a curious brow.

"No, him." He pointed up to the sculpture he was leaning against. Integral glanced at the scribed name: Mihai Eminescu.

"That's very interesting." Except it was a terrible waste of time in her opinion.

"My own statue is around," the beggar stood, sweeping the snow from his tattered suit. "I am Ion Creanga, at your service Madam van Helsing," he made a low bow and looked at her expectantly. Integral just stared at him blankly and that seemed to disappoint him, for the vampire made no effort to hide his frown. "I wager they don't teach Romanian literature in England."

"About Dracula…" Integral trailed off, changing the subject.

"Oh _him_. It's sad when our most remarkable national figure in literature was written by someone who isn't from our country," Ion snapped, twirling his facial hair, attempting to shake the snow out of it. "The rumour has it he's back. I just heard this recently but news sometimes doesn't travel as fast as the dead," he explained with a twinge of dark humour.

"He's in one of his castles, I suppose. Which one?"

"The less popular one, at least among the living, the secret shelter in Prundu Bârgaului," Ion replied, confirming her doubts. The trip through Borgo Pass, a hidden fortress deep in the Carpathians. "Some of the old Midians in the countryside has fled to the city recently. They are terrified to face an even more powerful Dracula for hunting territory."

"I have read the honourable hunting party's journals. However, I will still need a guide in case we lose ourselves in some trickery on the path," Integral said. "We are _very_ insistent."

Ion barked a loud laughter, several heads turned to glance at their direction, they lost interest soon and returned to inebriating themselves or rest. "He was before my time, by two years but I did visit his hideout out of literary curiosity decades ago," he chuckled. "There's no need for threats, Madame van Helsing. I will play the role of old mentor among four brave young men and a courageous lady in search of the vile beast."

"Literary interest, by any chance?" Integral inquired and was replied just with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Let's leave then. We'd better not waste more time."

"What about them, Sir Hellsing?" Niles Richards asked, shooting a glance to the injured thugs in the snow.

"Tsk, leave them be, Madam van Helsing," Ion suggested, lowering his eyelids. "Those wounds aren't lethal, they will probably have caught a pneumonia in the morning and not bother us for a while."

"So you sell your protection for blood, leech?" Buttes asked, scratching his chin. "And the thugs are just stupid to not realize someone is licking their peers' wounds?"

Ion smirked and gave a shrug, "They are drunk most of the time and blame the extra bottles playing games in their minds." He turned around, heading to the pile of beggars. "I will have to speak with them, telling I am going to a quick trip."

"You truly care for their acceptance?" Integral wondered aloud, unable to contain herself.

"They are better than foppish snobs in high circles," Ion paused to tell her. "Besides, I need to assign someone to take over the reading of _Paradise Lost_ while I am away." Integral looked incredulous at that response. "Don't be surprised, Madam van Helsing, I enjoy intelligent conversations with humble people, that is why I cultivate their minds."

"Don't take too long," Integral pointed out, staying on alert to see that the Midian did not set a trap for them. Because a vampire with a social conscience was too good to believe it was true.

----

"It's cold."

_Of course it is, Judas Priest. We are in the Carpathians in winter._

Anderson scowled at the condescending tone Dracula employed with him. They had arrived, or rather Dracula had dragged him to his secret lair in Romania, packing the last domain with him. The castle was empty and quite filled with dust and vermin. Not even after a century, had other Midians dared to inhabitant it for fear of the devil's return. He was not aware that Dracula continued to be a ruler but not of Wallachia, but the undead from the zone he was in.

"Why are we here?" Anderson asked, sitting still in the head chair of the big feast table. He did not wish to leave England, especially when his control over his body was slipping further and further. He wondered how no one ever noticed a huge castle on the top of the mountains; it was not part of the tourist guides to the Dracula 'experience' so popular in Romania.

_Humans ignore their fears, living in denial until they are gone. How else did Millennium hide all those Zeppelins and soldiers without being noticed?_ Anderson disliked his reasoning but conceded the point. _Integral expects to find me here. Therefore here I am._

Anderson snorted, not buying his sudden generosity. "I don't believe you. We haven't touched the castle, cleaned or removed the spider webs to give her any clue of our existence. We are just… here."

_Romania is dangerous. My kind is older and with my presence around, her safety is assured. But you made a good point, Judas_, Dracula commented with a fiendish tone. _Maybe we should sweep around with a broom and leave her a note. Even greeting her, would you like that?_

Anderson's sluggishness shifted into stiffness. He touched the long strands of his darkening hair and flinched. He could picture her horrified expression, eyes widened in fright at the sight of his hybrid form. "No…" he trailed off weakly.

_Ah, beloved Nemesis, you cannot avoid what will happen, you are just slowing it._

Anderson shut his eyes when he felt Dracula starting to take over; he recalled Seras more vividly now and in a less turbulent perspective. His memories quickly took over the sense of present reality; he was there again – in that wretched dungeon. Seras was pressed to the wall, shaking uncontrollably, her red eyes as wide as plates.

"Oh God, I swear I didn't want to! He took control of me! Please, believe me!" she started to babble. But he did not listen, she was a witness, she was looking at him as his body became more like his nemesis. "I-I…" Draculina was in utter shock and about to break down in tears. He was angry, in pain and wanted her to suffer, wanted the spawn to be in hell where she belonged, thus he struck in spite, to make her pay.

_But she was innocent_, Dracula added smoothly, _Otherwise why do you feel so repulsed by yourself? Looking for excuses for executing a vampire?_

Anderson hit the table with his fist, nearly breaking it. "Shut up! As you said, it was a vampire execution! It has nothing of special!" he shouted, but his words were shallow.

_Perhaps. But as a judge, did you carry out the proper sentence for the crime you claim?_

Anderson froze. It was like the weather had affected his soul in a mysterious way. He could not correctly remember why he had killed Seras Victoria, the reason why he was fighting to avoid someone else falling into Dracula's grasp. "I…"

_Integral will be arriving in a few days. Should I greet her or do you want to do the honours? _

Anderson imagined Integral's face contorting in dread at his shifting features and shook his head. He rose from the table, walking towards the last domain to rest and forget about the problems, they only made him more violent. Upon entering, Alexander Anderson lowered the lid and concealed the location of his casket with shadows.

----

The search had been unsuccessful, the castle was apparently completely empty. Integral was not in the best of her moods upon returning from the castle, persecuted by wolves and in the middle of a blizzard. She sneezed and felt her temperature rise. _Bloody hell_, she thought, searching a box of cigarettes in her pants and still attempting to shake the snow out her long hair. Her quest had been not only a waste of money and time but also of her body's defences.

"Hmm, perhaps he moved to Bran?" Ion proposed, glancing at the map of Romania, sitting across from her on the table. The rest of her men were standing, gathered for new plans in her inn room.

"There's no records of scared tourists being haunted and impaled by him," Integral retorted dryly, her voice was raspy and her throat felt sore.

"Boss," Buttes called her, "Your cell phone has signal once more. Thought you may want to call home to say we will take a bit longer to return."

Integral nodded and stood, unplugging the phone. The mountains and the blizzard had made any of their communicators useless. Apparently, there was some strange magnetic wave that affected all technology; one that had kept the castle location hidden from most machines for a long time. She did not dwell on the cause, perhaps a natural flaw that Dracula took advantage of through a mere stroke of luck.

"Yes," she sounded nasal, dialling up her Manor number. "That's a good idea." She waited for a while to be attended to, but no one answered her call. Annoyed, she tried individual numbers from her high-ranked staff's personal phones but only the company computer replied, stating they were no longer customers of the agency.

Agitated, Integral paused to think whom to call. Islands, she mused and dialled his number quickly.

"Sir Hellsing!" Sir Islands picked up and exclaimed urgently. He had tracked her number, it seemed. "Where are you Integral! I tried to communicate…"

"We just arrived from our visit to the Carpathians," Integral replied, her tone was jaded by the false presumptions that had led them on a doomed quest. "We found nothing. Why is no one answering when I call my mansion? I recall having paid the telephone tax on time," she added, irritated.

"Integral…" he paused before adding, saddened, "The Hellsing Organisation was burned down. Only the basement was saved from complete destruction."

Integral blinked, dumbfounded by what Islands had just told her. Burned down, her home, her legacy, her pride. "What happened?" she asked, demanding to know. She would destroy whoever did that.

"Vampire attack. We don't know the specifics, but it was a group of six who apparently sought to make themselves No Life Kings by destroying Hellsing… I don't know how they passed the defences…"

Integral felt her heart sunk to her stomach. _Because the defences were inoperative, because I put the money into this pointless chase! _

"Boss?" Buttes asked concerned.

"Madam van Helsing?" Ion inquired as well, "You look as pale as the snow."

Integral paid no heed to their concern, her hand trembled, apprehension shot through her system as well as dread. "What about my people?"

"There were no survivors, Integral. If there were ghouls or any still alive, all was burned with the fire," Islands stated, "I am so sorry. Her Majesty wishes your return as soon as I deliver you this message. Be careful. Farewell."

He hung up and Integral collapsed to her knees, her legs no longer supported her. She gritted her teeth to taste her pain, but she could not fall in pointless remorse. She would be ineffectual like that. Something was burning inside her soul, her mind, her body, chasing away the cold; it was the fire that incinerated her home and her people. It was consuming her as well with the need to kill.

"Sir Hellsing?" Richards asked, approaching her slowly. "Did something happen?" 

Integral stared at him, glassily and coldly, no indication of the fire that had been ignited by Islands' words. "Nothing that wilful genocide can't take care of," she replied, monotone as she stood and straightened her suit. She pulled her revolver out of the holster and fired twice at Ion Creanga's direction. He was too stunned by her sudden change of moods to dodge the bullets shot accurately to his heart and brain. Not even the sight of his fading cadaver contented the fire; her anger was still unquenched.

"Buttes, take one of your men and get the rid of the body," Integral ordered, turning to her surprised troops. "Richards, check if someone heard the gunshots. And whoever stays, will help me to clean this mess. We depart at once for London," she informed them, her lips twisting in a smirk. "And we will leave a mattress of Midian corpses behind."

The scum would pay for their cowardice, for wronging her. She would not stop until her wrath was satisfied or they were all dead. Hellsing would open the gates to their damnation without her supernatural followers.


	7. Invidia

_"Love of one's own good perverted to a desire to deprive other men of theirs"_  
(Of Envy, Dante in the Divine Comedy)

**Chapter Six  
- Invidia**

Anderson walked among the ruins of the Hellsing Mansion, invisible to the eyes and other human senses. He stopped and shut his eyes tightly, inhaling the scent – burned wood, cooked flesh. He even swore he could hear the cries of agony that had echoed when the halls were intact, before the walls were also consumed. He shook his head, murmuring a prayer for the personnel's unfortunate souls before heading to the untouched basement. More memories weaved, he nearly had a complete picture of what happened the night he was doomed.

_Why did you kill Seras? Dracula repeated, Do you remember? Do you know? I wanted to stop you._

Anderson paused. His voice, weaker in the midst of his resolution: _Judas Priest! Don't touch my fledgling! _

"I wanted her to suffer as I did. She…" Anderson admitted, watching Seras, that vampirism held no effect over her except her shadow arm and her red eyes. So innocent and damned at the same time.

_It wasn't that, but soon you will remember_, Dracula assured him, nearly laughing. _Very soon. After Sir Bannerworth's and Integral's wedding, of course._

Anderson twitched, rage swelling inside him. How could he allow the vampire to go so far as propose marriage to her, one that would be celebrated soon the in hopes that Sir Hellsing would get funding. He opened the cell's door in silence, staring at the floor, images played before his eyes, was Dracula projecting what happened to him like a film?

He was struggling, crying in pain as he fought Dracula. He would not allow him to win, to best him and remain at Integral's side as faithful henchman. They did not deserve her trust as the most esteemed assets of the Organisation.

_Seras and me? But you did? You must have been very depressed that you were no longer the favourite toy, inadequate_, his hiss was penetrating. Anderson saw himself growing decadent in his own room from inactivity. His missions were sparse.

"Seras and the Count already took care of it, Anderson," Integral had replied to him on many occasions. They were the aces, and he was a newcomer.

_Jealous of us?_

Anderson shut the door in shame and vanished into the Mansion that he had purchased to keep up the William Bannerworth charade. "Do you enjoy tormenting me? Twisting my thoughts to your convenience?"

_It has an appeal, doesn't it?_ Dracula asked with a snide tone. _We are going to share her, after the wedding. But you don't want to, do you? Still trying to fight me._

"This _is_ my body!" Anderson cried out, finding it more and more difficult to control the functions of it each time the image of what happened became clearer. He was tempted to destroy the luscious chambers, writing on the walls who he was: Alexander Anderson! Alexander Anderson! Alexander Anderson!

_And Integral is my Master, my chosen one and my charge yet you want to take my place as well, don't you? _

"Why did you do this?" Anderson asked, trying to think of the perverse reason someone of Dracula's power would forsake his body just to play with his mind and his soul.

_Proposing marriage to Integral? A way to assure a claim in the mortal terms you are so delighted to respect and honour. And to help her, it was a matter of time before she would fall like she did. Everyone falls, even me_, there was a pause, a calm left by the tempest that had sent Anderson buried deep into his own psyche, leaving his question without response. "Now, what we will wear for the event?" he asked, employing a higher pinch of tone than his, William's voice.

Anderson remained in a contemplating silence, analysing the situation, he wanted to save Integral but unfortunately, she was becoming more and more like himself: corrupted by her own self righteousness and unwilling to confess. No doubt it was what Dracula expected.

----

Integral wore white instead of black, a short yet modest skirt just a bit over her knees instead of her usual pants. She preferred to keep her attire as formal as she could, that was why she used a suit. The knights had been invited to the civil ceremony, Her Majesty was present, as well as both William Bannerworth and herself. They signed their union in front of the judge. Both had agreed that a religious wedding could wait until the vampires who destroyed her Mansion were destroyed. They would not consummate yet.

The guests gave a thunderous applause and escorted the just married couple outside. Integral led the way, dragging her husband by the lock of their arms. Many congratulations followed and she smiled and nodded, saying nothing. It was surreal to think herself as a married woman.

William and she smiled, posing together as a couple and with the Queen for their photographs. She was displeased with the attention on her private wedding, now that the press had gotten a hold of her surname and her address, the inquiries would start and her privacy and beloved low profile would disappear forever. Strangely, the journalists left as soon as they snapped a couple of pictures, no questions asked. _Perhaps Her Majesty's kindness as a wedding present?_ She offered her magnolia bouquet to the ruler, as a gift and a humble gesture in the public gathering before she excused herself to depart.

"Sir Hellsing," Islands bowed, shaking William's hand firmly. "Your luggage and that of your men has been already taken to Sir Banneworth's home."

Integral inclined her head, "Thanks for your kindness, Sir Islands. And for allowing us to stay at your house."

"Don't mention it. And you dear William, watch out, lest she turns your mansion into her new headquarters."

William laughed, there was something chilling in the ring, almost familiar that moved Integral inside. "Don't worry about that. We agreed to rebuild the Hellsing Mansion, hiring better men and equipping it with proper defences." She felt a stab in her pride. What did this boy know about her men and her weapons? He had never faced a vampire, or battled in the frontlines of the war.

"Indeed," Integral agreed with distaste.

"May I borrow your husband for a moment, Integral?" Sir Reynolds asked, placing a hand on William's shoulder. "We have business to discuss."

"Make sure to return him in time for us to depart," Integral replied, a small joke to lighten her mood. She watched Islands, Reynolds and Bannerworth leaving together to gather in a circle. She bit back a sneer; if Penwood were here she would seek his support. What did her husband have that was special? He had not accomplished anything noteworthy. Yet he possessed friends, allies and his Mansion was intact. She wondered if he was able to sleep at night without concern, without the phantom impression that if he closed his eyes, his staff and himself would be dead before the morning.

_He is blissfully happy_, Integral thought bitterly, observing him laugh without concern as he stole looks in her direction. _His conscience is clean aside of the fact that he's a git._ It was unfair, if he wanted to share his life with her, he would carry her burden as well. Or share his positive outlook, she craved it now that everything she had known was taken away from her: London, her Mansion, her personnel, her personal servants.

"Thinking in the future we'll spend together?" William asked, interrupting her thoughts as he returned to take her arm.

Integral blinked, a sly smile curled her lips. "The near future," she corrected, an idea forming in her mind. "Such as sharing the hunt against the fiends that destroyed my home. Wouldn't you enjoy seeing your wife in action as much I would enjoy witnessing your abilities?" she proposed.

"I don't know if I am suitable for the role," he said in a feigned humble tone. "You are such a great vampire hunter."

"You have _nothing_ to envy of me," Integral assured, patting his arm, "Trust me. We can do this together." She turned her gaze towards the waiting Rolls Royce; her duty had affected her peace, she would not allow her husband to go unscathed, happily ever after with powerful wife and no grim consequences. _He won't be able to sleep at night anymore, just like me._ That thought pleased her to no end.


	8. Superbia

_"Love of self perverted to hatred and contempt for one's neighbour"_  
(Of Pride, Dante in the Divine Comedy)

**Chapter Seven  
- Superbia**

Integral had been barely able to sleep ever since the mansion was burnt down. Her insomnia had increased due to war, her men vanishing, but the assault on her headquarters had taken away all the thrill of dreams, replacing it with paranoia, concern, and a deep violence boiling inside her system. She rolled over to face her husband; he had placed a hand around her waist that she had removed at once, it was against the agreement to touch each other so soon. William was blissfully unaware of the evil that was lurking outside his home, with his eyelids closed, breathing steady and peaceful expression, he rested for both of them.

_It won't last_, Integral thought to herself, glancing at the closed windows that stopped light from entering their chambers, then snagged her glasses and looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand. Eight twenty, almost time to get up. She disconnected the alarm and rose, taking a quick shower before dressing.

Integral declined most of the breakfast except for a piece of fried bread and a cup of tea. The anxiety left an acid taste in her throat, eating only increased it, the sweet flavour of tobacco, though provided enough nourishment. While her husband slept, she summoned her surviving men and some of the people William had hired. They entered and saluted; their faces were half attentive, half asleep.

"Sir Hellsing," Richards greeted, bowing. She was not Mrs. Bannerworth, true to her word, Integral had been allowed to keep her surname.

"Gentlemen," Integral said, placing her elbows on the table. "Is there any advance in determining the location of the culprits?"

"Boss," Buttes took the response, "We have bribed the local leeches to spill it out under the threat of incidents like the ones that happened in Romania." Integral smiled inwardly, remembering the glorious massacre, it had been cathartic. "And they had thrown us some clues of their current position."

"Sir Hellsing," one of the new recruits spoke now. Integral turned to watch the woman, she looked to be in her forties and sported some well-concealed scars on her face. "We may not have enough supplies to provide for all the new soldiers."

"It's not necessary, Miss Wilde. My experience is the most notable asset. We will use surprise as a crucial element now that they think themselves high and mighty," Integral answered, trying very hard to not slam her desk in rage. Those beasts did not deserve to exist under the same sky. "We will depart as soon my husband is willing to join our battle."

"Will Sir Bannerworth be able to cope?" Richards asked, dubious.

"I will protect him if something goes wrong," Integral stated, leaning forward further. "Any report that indicates the reasons for those dead targets weeks ago?"

Buttes shook his head. "No idea, boss. Maybe the same punks who burnt down the mansion were involved."

"I agree, Sir," Richards nodded, "Their wounds were unusual."

"How so?" Integral inquired, reaching for the file that contained the cases information, scrutinising the remains of the dead Midians.

"Check that, Sir," Richards pointed to a dismembered arm. "The way it was sliced."

Integral's eyes narrowed, "It seems like someone… chewed on it. Something with sharp teeth." She shut the file. "We won't allow this mockery of our abilities to go farther. Today, we will hunt them down!"

----

When Integral finished changing and left, Anderson finally opened his eyes. He sat up straight on the bed, inhaling sharply despite not needing air. Two days, it had been two days since the ceremony and he still could not bear himself near her.

_Self control isn't your forte, is it?_ Dracula taunted inside his head. _I know you crave to break the agreement, to take her before I did in my way. For her own good, or yours, Judas Priest? Can't bear anyone else to win? _

Anderson was about to retort that Dracula was the one with that issue and that his lascivious thoughts leaked inside his mind, but the pain of shifting bodies again overcame his system. His bones cracked and elongated, his hair grew in length and he felt his teeth sharpening, damaging the sensitive flesh inside his mouth. He wailed and curled, in a vain attempt to pause the transformation. He rolled over on the bed, falling from the edge and crawling with effort towards the bathroom, standing up with the help of one of his bayonets. He gritted his teeth, feeling his flesh being burnt by the holy item.

_Open your eyes, Judas_, Dracula said with an innocuous tone. _See what image awaits you._

Anderson leaned on the sink, agitated, and glanced at the mirror. If his sane mind was working, he would have realized that vampires did not cast reflections, but his consciousness was far too gone and what he saw horrified him: Dracula. With his long curly hair, well shaped cheekbones, elegant goatee and red eyes. He was Dracula, there were no recognisable traits that indicated he was Alexander Anderson any longer. He lifted his bayonet, despite how it burnt his hand, cutting the strands roughly, taking away layers of his skin with it then tried to get the rid of his facial hair. The silver was acid to the skin, blood poured down from his cheeks, dripping to the floor along with the hair and the flesh. But the image of the mirror did not shift; it was the same mocking figure of the vampire.

_No one can see me like this! No one!_ Anderson repeated, chanting as is eyes swirled in chaos, as he kept damaging, disfiguring the unchanging image of the mirror. He would destroy him, annihilate anyone who discovered his secret.

_That you lost. That's why you killed Seras. She was the witness of your fall, Judas Priest._

Anderson released the bayonet and he collapsed with it, remembering… remembering everything.

"Sir Hellsing," Anderson had addressed her, hands in his pockets, moving anxiously. "Is there no mission for me today either?"

Integral had placed a folder to the side. He had waited until she left her men training to speak with him in private of her office. She had shook her head. "I am afraid so, Anderson. Seras and the Count easily destroyed the last target."

He had been tired of being a wasted resource; he had wondered if she was afraid to employ him in her service. That had been the most logical explanation in his mind, the one that protected his honour. Then the sessions of sloth began, he allowed himself to fall into apathy, forgetting to pray, no longer caring for what he read. It continued until that night when he awoke in the cell.

Anderson had heard the footsteps, the light noises Seras' boots made on the floor, but he did not move, remaining still until she had approached too close. The dark magic inside the dungeon damped his abilities to purify and to summon bible pages. He was in serious trouble. He tried to defend himself once, pulling bayonets from the fourth dimension, but his hands were held, tied by the shadow tendril. He admitted that on a primal level he wanted this, to be as useful as the vampires in Sir Integral's sight. He was already damned after all, what could he lose? He caught a glimpses of Draculina's face before she dipped to his neck; her expression was blank, like she was in a trance. She was being controlled.

Her bite had been delicious, so pleasurable that all the struggle in him died out, favouring the strange sensations induced as her fangs pierced deeper into his flesh. Anderson had felt her curvy body pressed to his, straddling firmly to limit his possible movements. He had groaned, moaned, and whimpered Integral's name in ecstasy until Seras had been interrupted by a clapping sound. Obediently, the Draculina had left Anderson on the floor when her Master appeared. Anderson had glanced at Dracula hungrily.

"I will be the Master of your Master, Judas Priest," Dracula had said as he kept applauding. "How does that sound?"

Anderson had stood up, weakened as his body adjusted to the metamorphosis, as his canines elongated and the spasms of the body were fading along with his vital signs. Pushing Seras out of the way, he had lunged for Dracula, who greeted him with welcoming arms and a triumphal glee. He had been so damn hungry; he had craved the other vampire's blood like his life depended on it, and bit down, losing himself in the taste of the devil's haemoglobin. It brought him such pleasure, to feast on the bloodsucker at last, and as he felt the power, his expression darkened, he wanted more and more power. He would be Integral's ace if he were powerful, not them.

Alexander had released the vampire when he was almost empty, uncaring of his joker grin or his watchful eyes, Anderson had focused in the blood of the floor, leaning to lap at it greedily. More power, more blood, his mind was ragging, uncontrolled. It was all for a good cause.

Anderson had died in that position, passing out over the blood pond, limbs twitching with the oncoming transformation. What had been pleasurable now became painful beyond his imagination. He recalled the process that turned him into a regenerator, the memory was a relief compared to what he endured. Shadows, there were layers of darkness invading his body during the convulsions and he tried to awake. A voice, a presence had entered his mind, this body, a cold bearing the numbness of death.

_As the Master of your Master I command you_, Judas Priest, Dracula's voice resounded, so close and intimate.

His body had started to change, more than the usual vital signs fading and the fangs, it shifted, moulding to what the soul that had taken over commanded. Anderson screamed, awaking from the trance, watching as his stained clothes formed armour, as his blonde hair darkened and gained length. His eyes had widened, he was becoming his hateful foe, his rival. The sour taste of the ultimate defeat: he had poisoned his soul and own body! _This wasn't supposed to happen! _

"M-master?" Anderson had heard Seras speak, her tone cracking. He had looked at her; her eyes had a semblance of self-control. She had touched her lips, licking his blood off of them. She had been controlled, he was aware now she had not meant to. But she had been staring at him, frightened by his new look and had made no attempt to hide her shock.

"Don't look at me!" Anderson had snapped, ashamed to be seen. No one should see him. No one! If he avoided being seen, his shame would be hidden. "Don't look at me!" he had insisted, rage swelling inside. But she could not take her eyes away from his body, those innocent red eyes. A damned curious creature should had not have been allowed to be so innocent, to exist, to see him and how low he had descended!

_Judas Priest! Don't touch my fledgling!_ Dracula had roared.

"Oh God, I swear I didn't want to! He took control over me! Please, believe me! I-I…"

Her words had come too late, Draculina had been distracted, still stunned by the mind control and he had been enraged because of his defeat and those who aided to bring him to this position should suffer in hell. He had watched Seras' head sliced off her body, both pieces falling to the floor then the Void had taken over until he had awakened, hours later.

Anderson lay on the bathroom of the Bannerworth bathroom. He had the urge to break things, to cry, to fight but could not do anything but remain there, motionless.

_Your vanity, your pride caused all those problems. After all, that's the chief of the deadly passions. _

_Deadly passions, how the Orthodox Church calls the capital sins_, Anderson thought, bemused, thinking himself pathetic for his own actions but strangely unwilling to admit them.

_I was Orthodox in life, Judas Priest. And self-righteous, like you, like Integral, look how I ended up_, Dracula pointed out, laughing. _You have put up a good fight, Judas Priest but your will has decreased. Now is time for me to step in. I must confess I was first worried that the Police Girl's death would deter my control over you, and it was diminished considerably, but through our games I have recovered the upper hand. _

Anderson felt himself pushed, unable to control his body anymore, just to witness without influence. The hybrid of Dracula and Anderson fell on the floor, but the body that rose was William Bannerworth.

_Now is time to replace the fledgling you destroyed._

"Sir Bannerworth," a maid asked from outside the bathroom door, knocking it. "Are you alright? We heard a scream."

"It's fine, Sally," 'William' replied rubbing his jaw, tracing the scar on his left cheek. "I just cut myself with the razor, that's all. It'll heal."

----

Integral gestured to the soldiers to secure the perimeter. The culprits had been hiding in East End, a building that had miraculously been able to remain almost complete after the Nazi assault.

"We have located them, they are on the fourth floor, Sir," Richards informed her, "And… they have some ghouls…" Integral lifted a brown, noticing his hesitation. "They have the emblem of the Hellsing Organisation."

Integral closed her eyes, barely containing the anger, the insult and the biting sorrow. Her soldiers, her men, the proof of her failure. "I will take care of the ghouls before eliminating all vampires," she ordered, "It's my duty."

"Sir!" Richards saluted.

"Is that wise Integral?" William asked, crossing his arms over his vest. He looked rather attractive and less foppish with his military attire. "Allow the soldiers to clear the way for you," he suggested.

"No," Integral shook her head, "This is what I want. I will put those men into rest. This is not the first time I am forced to do this. Otherwise I am not worthy of being a Hellsing." William sighed and leaned closer to her, she remained still, allowing him to press his lips on hers in a brief kiss. They needed to appear a couple at some point.

"Call us if you need help," he murmured.

"We'll see," Integral said before turning to her men. The new and the old ones. "The main group will follow Richards through the emergency stairs. Buttes, remain here to cover the snipers in the surrounding buildings. The rest will follow me inside. I will take care of the ghouls," she ordered, patting the hilt of her sword. "Start the operation."

"You heard my wife," William holstered his revolver, a Magnum he'd had made specially for the occasion. "Let's move." Integral feigned to be pleased by his support but she was not, he was trying to steal her leadership.

The door was opened cautiously and the rifle's flashlight illuminated inside. There were bones on the floor, human and animals. The stench was unbearable, several coughed from the putrid smell.

"Put your masks on," Integral ordered as she masked herself. "The skeletons are old, must be victims from the war."

"The staircase," William told her, pointing to the crack of stairs, there were faint noises. Footsteps, many descending the stairs. Groans and grunts.

_Ghouls_, Integral realized, loading her rifle. "Step back, I will clean the way."

"Integral, they are many, it's too dangerous!" William pleaded but she did not listen, could not. This had been her fault and she would take care of her responsibilities. It was a personal matter and punishment. Those men fell for her, fell for Hellsing. So did she as their leader, both would be avenged through the execution.

Alone, Integral walked to the end of the staircase and waited. She saw the first one jump towards her direction, she quickly blew his head off by pulling the trigger. Then the other. _Bang._ And another. _Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang._ Their dark blood spilled over her mask, her green fatigues, she stared at the dark staircase until there were no more noises. Carefully, she illuminated the stairs and, after assuring they were empty, she started to climb.

"Integral…" William's voice called to her. "Allow someone investigate for you."

"Give Richards the signal to proceed," she said dismissingly, reaching the first floor. She was going to spin around the corner when she realized the ghouls were not gone, they were waiting. She was not able to count them, but there were at least twenty moving fast towards her position. She tried to shoot, but they got a hold of her barrel. With alacrity, Integral unsheathed her sword and severed the hands of those trying to capture her front but she missed her left, a fatal mistake. Integral felt the blunt rotten teeth of a ghoul on her forearm, making her scream in pain. Dumbfounded, she took a sharp breath and cut the culprit's head, she felt another sting, on her right leg that time, and lowered her sword to the other zombie.

_Damn, damn, damn,_ Integral thought, her mind growing numb, sweat and fever increasing. The bites had infected her and she knew she would not be able to keep fighting for too long. In hopes of winning space to battle better, she retraced her steps, not calculating correctly the position of the staircase. She slipped and fell, releasing her weapons in the fall. Instead of hitting the marble stairs, she collapsed over something equally as solid and cold. Arms were holding her tightly. It was someone's chest. She attempted to see who her saviour was, but her sight turned blurry, she only could distinguish silhouettes.

"See what happened because of your desire to deny help?" The voice was masculine, it sounded like William but it did not at the end of the question. Integral grunted in pain. She could not see her wounds but was certain the skin around had grown dry and rotten. "Do you want me to save you now, Integral? Ask for it," he demanded in a devilish tone. "I don't want to become a widower so soon. Third's time the charm and all…"

_William? No…_ "Count? Alucard?" she asked in disbelief, how that fit. She had married him. She had been set up? "Seras? Anderson?"

"Anderson is with me…" There was something in his voice, sarcasm? She could not place what it was but the vampire played as if he knew something she did not. "Seras died."

Seras dead… Integral felt another type of pain spreading quickly inside her upon hearing that revelation. But she was in no condition to mourn her officer now.

"Then I w-will join her. I would never admit defeat," Integral shot back, struggling for her words, it was painful to breathe, to keep her mind awake. She felt him cradling her head, pressing something cold to her neck and then a sting; her flesh was so numb she could barely feel it. The world faded around her and Integral Hellsing tasted blood in her mouth, it was too cold to be hers.

_In the end, Integral_, she heard his mental voice as her body changed_, Anderson protected you until now._ _Your answer was all I needed. I am so proud of you. Those with too much pride always fall first._


	9. Epilogue

_"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."_  
(Confucius).

**-Epilogue**

Dracula could sense Anderson's sorrow as he fed Integral, encouraging her to suck the blood out his breast. The sensation was divine, the image of her lips suckling, as her body died was one that plagued his darkest fantasies. She was not conscious, her survival instinct acted above her pride after her mind blurred. He caressed her long hair, listening absently to the gunshots floors above. The soldiers would take care of the trash vampires but they would not find their employers yet, shadows concealed them. Integral gasped and finished, passing out completely. The spasms became more violent.

Dracula picked her up, carrying her to the first floor, passing through the soldiers firing at the surviving ghouls like they were ghosts. No one could see them. He walked through the right corridor and chose the last apartment to enter. The chairs and contents of the room were on the floor, as if the occupants had exited in a rush and had bumped them over on their way. Heading to the suite, he carefully placed her on the mattress, holding her firmly during the transformation. A wide smirk was ever present on his features.

_Why did you do this?_ Anderson asked, breaking the privacy of the moment, but Dracula could tell he would not harm Integral and was concerned about her outcome. _You never answered me what possessed you to do this to me._

"Because I _am_ monster?"

_You have been always been a monster._

"Since you are so curious and _helpless_, Judas Priest," Dracula stated maliciously, liking to remark his defeat. "It was out of need."

_What?_

"Surprising, isn't it? But I thought you, an expert vampire hunter would realize that all the targets you have slain were young vampires, two centuries years old at most. Where were the old ones? Hiding? Some were smart enough to keep a low profile and some others… didn't have a choice," Dracula explained, feeling the tension in Anderson's soul while he absorbed this information. "When a vampire ages, the power increases but unfortunately, our bodies cannot hold the might, we grow more fragile, sluggish, chaotic until we… fade… decompose."

_She… the first vampire. Millennium's prisoner_.

Dracula nodded, the image of the most powerful, the Eve, the Lilitu, the First, whose body was in ruin, trapped on her own slumbering chaos came to his mind. "The ultimate example of what happens to the oldest."

_You aren't even six centuries old_, Anderson remarked, Dracula was aware he had an idea why he had chosen him.

"But my power was increased by the Hellsing bloodline, surpassing the elder of my kind. I felt the effects three decades ago. I was not able to remain awake to Arthur's concern. And I slept, I waste myself for twenty years until Integral stirred me with her delicious blood," Dracula elaborated, leaning to gave a friendly lap to the trail of blood on the corner of her mouth. "I understood I would have to employ a new body, a new shell before it happened again. And that became more urgent when…"

_You were released, full power…_ Anderson finished for him. There was a silence between both men. Had he figured it out? _You tested me to see the limit of my body, my regeneration…_

"Very good, Judas. A common human turned to vampire would resist first but fade within time but an undead Regenerator would have none of those problems. The Adam of a new improved bloodline," Dracula gloated, "Integral is the Eve, the first of the improved vampires. This is truly eternal damnation and I am the Devil."

"For our sins?"

Dracula diverted his attention to Integral now; she was wide-awake, her red eyes looked at him with an unreadable expression. He was expecting her to rage at him, to maul and to bite off whatever was at the reach of her mouth. But she was too calm, too collected. Integral must be plotting something, he was certain.

"You two brought themselves that fall," Dracula said solemnly. "Self-righteous and blinded to the passions that drove you to this end."

"Anderson is close to me," Integral snorted, licking her right canine to clean it off blood. He craved to touch her, to feel a woman close to his body again, it had been so long. "That's what you said, I understand now." She traced the scar on his cheek. "That is his body."

"The men you marry, Integral. Shall we _consummate_ our union now?" Dracula growled, lips brushing her ear, wanting to mark her beyond a signature. "Judas Priest is eager too," he added to Anderson's anger.

"I am fallen," Integral admitted, jerking her head from his mouth, rolling out his grasp. "However, it doesn't mean I don't intend to improve my situation," she sat straight on the bed. "Or yours…"

"What do you mean?" Dracula lifted a brow, petulant. She moved with feline grace, crawling to his side, pulling him to the bed and pinning him beneath her weight. He allowed her, basking in her dominance. "Well this is an improvement," he agreed, feeling her body straddling his hips, his hands posed on her waist.

Bending down, Integral smirked widely. "We agreed to do nothing of this sort until we have a Church marriage…" she reminded him, sweeping his hands off of her waist.

_Yes, we did_, Anderson's voice resounded in the corner of his mind.

_Shut up, Judas Priest, you will not act as the angel on my shoulder_, Dracula snapped at him. "We can do that now, if you don't mind burning a bit from the holiness."

"Oh no," Integral shook her head sadly, her sorrow was fake and unapologetic. "We are fallen beings. How we can join in the eyes of God?"

"What do you propose then?" Dracula asked, warily, feeling her rubbing herself over his groin. He restrained himself, just in case this was a ploy of some nature.

"The seven capital sins brought our damnation, only the seven virtues shall purify us," Integral suggested, lips curling up in a triumphal smile. One he did not like at all, no matter how attractive she looked when displaying that. "Starting with chastity." Dracula grimaced, he never learned from his own mistakes it seemed.

_Even the Devil failed due to his pride in what he deemed an impending victory, Dracula!_

* * *

Author's Notes: I want to thank to all the reviewers for the feedback (and those who voted for me in fictionhaven should know this story won the first place in May Challenge). Special thanks to Dreadnot (my editor) and Lyanna Kane (for her information about Romania). The Bannerworth bloodline belongs to "Varney the Vampyre or The Feast of Blood" by James Malcolm Ryder, a work previous to Stoker's "Dracula." Comments, criticism, any type of feedback is appreciated. 


End file.
